Roger's New Secret Identity
by TheCrazyPerson44
Summary: Is Roger actually a high level operative posting on 4chan?


ROGER IS Q ANON: THE FANFIC

Cut to film-noir setting, Roger dressed in a trenchcoat flipping a quarter in the air, cigar in mouth, walking down a grizzly crime-ridden street in a London-like city with rain pouring down in the background. Prostitutes in every corner.

Roger begins to narrate some stuff:

The date was October 28, 2017. But this particular scene looks more like a raunchier version of the Victorian era.  
I didn't know whether I was the living incarnate of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle or just really super high.  
Probably just really super high, or psychic. I mean you folks all know the stories about Nostradamus and how his hopeless narcolepsy gave him what  
he needed to predict the future right? Or was that the nutmeg/opiate combo? Monatomic gold, like what comes from my grey alien ass?  
I dunno what the hell I'm talking about, so I'll leave it up to a fanfiction author  
to present a more clear vision. A vision that is not caused by any of the aforementioned substances, well maybe some of them.  
But for reals, don't try them. Okay do try them but not-whatever, I'll shut up.

Author's Disclaimer: Roger can't control himself. But everyone else should. On with the story:

Everything seemed quasi-normal in the Smith Home, except that the family alien was absent. Yes, I just said that. Francine was knocking on the door to Roger's  
attic, attempting to entice him to come back down into the living room, as he had not been availible in weeks.  
"Roger," said Francine. "I baked your favorite fudge brownies"  
"Brownies, yes, that's good, just lemme take one more swig here," mumbled Roger under his breath. Francine sighed, then came back downstairs to see Stan watching  
television. Flump had just finished a speech in front of the armed forces and was speaking of the "Calm Before the Storm"  
"Stan, it's no use. Roger won't come out even if I give him pot laced brownies" said Francine.  
"It's the calm before the storm Francine, calm before the storm, relax. Until the storm, that is. Panic a bit then, stay inside, and relax again" replied Stan.  
"Stan, listen to me!" said Francine.  
"Oh, were you saying something? Oh, Roger. Francine, Roger's just going through a transformation-and when he emerges he'll be a big beautiful butterfly" said Stan.  
"Stan this is serious, Steve has offered to play Call of Duty with him, Haylee's offered to strip for him, I've offered to strip for him, Klaus offered him  
tickets to see Star Wars The Force is Hardening or whatever its called, nothing's working at all"  
"Well, I've got a big day at work tomorrow, lots of leaks, but I guess I'm the only one who hasn't tried anything so I'll go give it a college try" said Stan.  
Stan bravely trudged forward, gun in hand, kicking Roger's door down.  
"On your knees, CIA Task Force Special Ops Division Four Two One Eight Something or another!" said Stan, pointing his gun at Roger. Usually when Stan pointed  
his gun at the frail and mostly defenseless but occasionally lethal alien he would cower in fear. But not today. Roger was as pre-occupied as a bee on a flower.  
"Roger, what the hell are you doing? You're on the computer?" asked Stan, bending down to see the 4chan website. Roger slowly turned his head over towards  
Stan with a stare of deathly seriousness.  
"I've got big stuff going on. Big big stuff," said Roger. He then turned his attention back towards the laptop.  
"Roger, how could you possibly be that busy on 4chan? I mean sure us folks at the CIA invented it but that was just to get people hooked on weird  
cartoons with subliminals in them," said Stan. Roger pulled his laptop closer to him, began snarling like an angry cat and clutched it. Stan fired his gun at the wall.  
"Okay, okay, I'll hand it over. God, I am so drunk right now I can barely move" said Roger, falling face down to the floor.  
"Let's see here, my god what has he been doing?" thought Stan as he looked at the screen which read the following:

Brownies.  
Lots of them.  
What the hell did I just say?  
What the hell did you just NOT say?  
I farted. Twice.  
Things getting too spicy for the pepper. Or so says Franny.  
Special council is called special, but why? Aren't I special?  
Cereal? No, fried chicken.

Peanut butter and jelly ALWAYS end up together.

Just by chance?

I love my wine glass. Hand crafted by Sandra Lee btw  
KFC is a mothership.

Nigel Miraj looks just like Bullock. Hm, I wonder why?  
Taylor Swift is hot AF.

Broke up with Taylor Swift. Every rose has its thorn.  
Watch Katy Perry's pet cat-extremely carefully.

Are the ghosts of the alt fright real? Am I real?  
To be or not to be? That is the question. ++++++++  
Or is it?  
What is a question?  
What is an answer?  
Where's my wig?

Hitler. Russian Asset? What I don't know about history will shock you.

Should I put some asterisks next? **********

What is all this crap anyway? +++++++++

Why am I asking you all these questions?

Is this the end of Batman?  
Russia? That's a bunch of horseshit. _ SEE ABOVE, AS ABOVE SO BELOW SOME SAY.  
Bad people-plotting against the president-underneath-WOOHOOSTERS BAR AND GRILL.  
That place is nothing but a front for dark operations.  
Should know myself. They stole my credit card.  
Will go there and subdue them. Not just going to see the cute ladies. Believe me.

Starbutts=great name for a strip club.

Witch Hunts are fun, but only if the witches are hot.

FYI, Russia is not really a country. Or a thing. At all.

"Roger, I didn't know you knew how to program in C++, who taught you?" asked Stan.

"Um, that's not what this is" said Roger.

"Then what is it? Wait, Roger, this is all nonsense, I mean I want to protect the president too but you can't possibly really see meaning in this,  
it's like a combination of a failed attempt at poetry and the Riddler from Batman," said Stan. Roger lifted up his finger.  
"I didn't see meaning in it, but they did" said Roger.  
"They, who's they?" asked Stan. Just then Roger got up as if nothing had happened, brushing dust off his fat legs, looking as lively as ever for no apparent reason.  
"Why none other than good old uncle Sam! That's right, I'm now a high ranking official in the Flump Administration" said Roger.  
"Oh, I get it. This is another one of your crazy characters you've made up isn't it? What's his name this time? Or her name?" asked Stan.  
"Ahem, I would like the camera to zoom in on my face when I say this like in Austin Powers. I'm...Q-Anon!" said Roger, putting an eyepatch over his left-eye.  
"I get it. Cuz the Flump Administration gives you your cue to just go on and on and on without saying anything. Got it" said Stan, dismissing Roger and heading  
downstairs.  
"No, come back. You have to believe me" protested Roger. He grabbed Stan by the shirt.  
"Roger, let go of me or I'll call Area 51 and they'll send you through a wormhole to a funny planet" yelled Stan.  
"My job is to give information. Information that could save lives. And destroy them. LISTEN TO ME!" yelled Roger.  
"Oh come on, that was all a bunch of ludicrous crap. My foot can text more reasonably and rational than you can" replied Stan.  
"Really, Stan, you can join me there's plenty of beer, my attic is a bar remember? If you just got smashed you'd understand all of this!" exclaimed Roger.  
"Roger, what is all that stuff I hear coming from your room? I hear voices" said Stan.  
"Looks like you're the one who needs to be sent to the funny planet Stanuel, hahahaa" laughed Roger. Stan rushed back into Roger's room. He checked the computer  
and was shocked to see that people were actually talking about him on a livestream out loud.  
"Oh my god, this...this can't possibly be for real" said Stan. He continued, "ROGER IS EITHER A HIGH LEVEL AGENT OR A MODERN DAY NOSTRADAMUS!"

The conversation on the Deodorant Castle livestream was as follows:

Jerome Popeye: You know, Flump once compared himself to Batman. Roses could mean the Rose Law Firm. Every Rose Has its Thorn was a song written by a group called 'Poison'

NibiruExistsinMyToilet21: YES, I was thinking the same thing. They're gonna try to poison someone in Q Branch. Taylor Swift must know something about it.

IamNotRickAstley491: "Wait till Pete Swan sees this. When Q Anon says CEREAL that makes me think of Corn Puffs. They look just like planets!  
Milk surrounding the Corn puffs is outer space. That has to be about Space X! That's Elon Musk! YES I KNEW IT, THIS IS INCREDIBLE"

JamesBondCanSuckit987: I think we've been up too late looking at this.

I'mStarkRavingMad444: Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle and String Theory both make Q Anon make more sense. We know Q anon is there, but no one can ever find him.  
Q Anon is therefore an invisible particle in a holographic universe.  
We don't have to have the right material to build a boat, we can make a boat with anything we want. Also, we may be able to make use of the Mandela Effect here.

IamNotRickAstley491: LOL WUT?

JamesBondCanSuckit987: Another flat earther troll no doubt.

NibiruExistsInMyToilet: I want to be very clear. The American people deserve to know if I'm a troll. I am not a troll. No, no, no.

Meanwhile:

Roger waddled his way back into the attic like a penguin, where Stan looked as though he were in a coma. Francine was tending to him, as he needed a bag of ice  
for his head.

"Roger, where are you getting your information?" asked Stan.  
"Oh, from a colleague in the Flump Administration. Here's his picture" said Roger, showing Stan a picture of himself dressed up like an FBI agent.  
"Hey, I think I know this guy. Haha. Dave, good old Dave. CIA buddy. We knew each other in high school. Used to pretend we were zebras" said Stan.  
"Um, Stan, I hate to burst your bubble, especially in public, but that 'Dave' isn't your buddy in high school. I think he's also Q Anon, AKA Roger" said  
Francine.  
"Roger? You know he does look a little bit like him. Maybe Dave was Roger, ah-aha-ha-ha-hah. Oh..wait, I see your point" said Stan.

The next day:

Stan arrived at work. He shook hands with Bullock.  
"Good day, Agent Smith. I assume you're aware of the recent news?" asked Bullock.  
"No, don't think so," said Stan, straightening his tie.  
"There's been lots of events going on that seem to have been predicted by a poster on 4chan. Terror cells being busted underneath the local Woohoosters Bar and Grill, Kitty Purry learning sign language from a secret society, we just can't account for it all. We have reason to believe the aforementioned 4chan member may be a graduate of our Psychic Warfare program" explained Bullock. Stan just laughed nervously.  
"Haha. Ahahaha. Psychic warfare program, love it. What's that? Cuz I was totally never a part of it, believe me" said Stan. Agent Duper chimed in.  
"It's someone named Q Anon posting on that site with all the message boards and funny memes. Claims to work for the government but we can't identify him, he could be right in this room I suppose" said Duper.

"Maybe he's a drunk space alien. I don't know why I said that" said Agent Max.  
"So, uhh, what are you going to do if you find him? Give him a promotion? Kill him?" asked Stan.  
"He's leaking sensitive material, very sensitive. We at the CIA are all so sensitive, boohoo. But we haven't really decided yet.  
I'll need some time to myself to think about it. If he has psychic powers, we could use that to our advantage, we could offer him immunity and then brainwash him"  
said Bullock, tossing a paper airplane. He then continued to demand coffee.  
"You just can't think without coffee" said Duper, pouring Bullock some coffee.  
"Thank you Agent Duper. Coffee is the greatest invention known to mankind, well, besides afternoon tea, among other things I won't mention" said Bullock.  
"What if I found out who this guy was? Would I get a big bonus?" asked Stan.  
"Stan you would be considered the greatest living legend in American history" explained Bullock.  
"Even though Q is the one somehow predicting all that stuff? I would be the greatest living legend somehow?" asked Stan.  
"Yes, Stan. That's really how it works" replied Bullock. He continued, "We would never hear about Q again. By the way, your daughter is very pretty"  
"Um, are you threatening me?" asked Stan.  
"No," replied Bullock. "She just really is very pretty. Thought I'd say that"

Later, when everyone left:

Bullock picked up his phone and called his brother.  
"Listen, Nigel Miraj? I keep telling you, politics aside, we cannot let this get out. You are NOT my brother. Do you hear me? You are NOT my brother" yelled  
Bullock.

That evening:

"I am completely and utterly tired I'm going to bed," said Stan, stretching his arms and yawning. Haylee walked by in the hallway as Stan was heading upstairs.  
"Dad, did you ever figure out what's up with Roger?" asked Haylee.  
"Oh, he's now a senior official in some black ops information unit among the highest levels of the Flump Administration or something, tell anyone that you're  
dead, night pumpkin" replied Stan. Haylee was shocked. She raced up to Roger's attic, knocking on his door furiously.  
"Roger, what is all this stuff? Have you lost your back-up mind too?" asked Haylee. Roger opened the door.  
"Hi Hayleekins, come on in I'll give you the grand tour" said Roger, slurring his words.  
The bar/attic had been completely redesigned to look like a high tech lair with Q gadgets, like something out of the James Bond series.  
"Well, Roger, you certainly spruced up your place, I suppose," said Haylee, who was wearing a red dress and blue eyeliner.  
"Yes, it's now a fully air conditioned professional luxury suite with a pool, a couple chairs with most of the termites removed,  
and a color TV. Well, at any rate that sounded good" said Roger.  
"Haha, yeah, that did sound good, sort of" said Haylee giggling.  
"Ahem, okay, Haylee? I have something to confess, and you probably won't like it, but Roseanne Barr would really like it and I'm almost over you anyway" said  
Roger.  
"What is it Roger?" asked Haylee.  
"Your dad is right. I'm that guy. I'm Q Anon" said Roger. Haylee shrieked for seven seconds until Roger snapped his fingers.  
"Please, please don't do that honey. I can teach you to like this place, believe me" suggested Roger.  
"Roger, I'm not mad at you" said Haylee.  
"What? That's out of character, you're supposed to be super liberal" said Roger.  
"This place is awesome, Roger. I'm just happy for how well you're doing for yourself. You've really straightened out your life" said Haylee.  
"Oh my gawwwd, Haylee, what happened to you?" said Roger.  
"Nothing, Roger. I'm genuinely glad you found a good high paying job. Even if it was due to posting creepy cryptic messages on a  
batshit crazy website partially dedicated to bazooka-armed right wing nationalist pond frogs and anime porn, I'm completely down with the new you" said Haylee.  
"You're kidding me! Hey, do you want an account too? You can be my second in command. We'll be King and Queen and this is our castle" said Roger.  
"Let's..not go that far" said Haylee, with a discontent look, her arms folded and her eyelids half shut.  
"Oh, you will too go that far you crazy girl, once you get an account you won't be able to stop, bad prose poetry and fake news creation, here we come!" said Roger attempting to log in. But then he realized something.

HE WAS BANNED! Haylee suspiciously began laughing, as if she had something to do with it.

Roger began frantically attempting to contact President Flump through a top secret Q clearance device sent to him in the mail from an undisclosed location  
after his predictions started coming true. He dialed up the White House. Flump answered.

"Oh guayawwd, Mr. President this is urgent I need to talk to you, please, think of me like a daughter I'm begging you,  
they banned me, how are we gonna fight the bad guys now?" pleaded Roger.  
"Listen Ivanka, I have a press conference in five minutes call me later okay? I told you, I think Jarred's a great guy" said Flump.  
"What? No, this is Q. This is urgent Mr. President. Look into your heart, look into your heart, I'm praying to you" whined Roger.  
"Q? Oh, well I do have a press conference, that I can tell you, but I'm all ears, lay it on me cue ball" demanded Flump.  
"It's the crooked people who can't be named, they're everywhere, they banned me like I was a plate of chopped liver. Please Mr. President, tell me what to do"  
demanded Roger.  
"Listen, Q, I understand your plight, I almost got banned on Twitter, like a lot, ok? Believe me little man. Anyway, my son Barron was showing me this  
new thing called FloorPlan it's like 4chan but less about memes and more about floor plans. They discuss politics in a seperate section, easy to find.  
Later homeslice!" said Flump, putting his phone back in his pocket.  
"Are you there? How's Roseanne doing? New episode any good? Does she want me? How badly does she want me? Oh crap, he hung up" muttered Roger in frustration.  
"That's okay, I heard the conversation, I can get you an account on FloorPlan easy. Mom used to love that site" said Haylee.

"Haylee, I may have posted some grossly exagerrated statistics about mole on ostrich crime" confessed Roger.

Meanwhile,

Stan and Steve were playing Call of Duty.  
"Steve, I can't believe you missed that guy he was the easiest kill in the world" said Stan.  
"Dad, I didn't miss him. They're using cheat codes" replied Steve.  
"They're using cheat codes, you think George S. Patton would put up with that bullshit?" yelled Stan.  
"Dad, I'm kind of worried about Haylee and Roger being up there all the time" said Steve.  
"Yeah? We're gonna be joining them soon. We're all gonna be a part of it" explained Stan.  
"A part of what?" asked Steve.  
"Some kind of black ops information thingie designed to take down a secret group of evil plotting against our nation. Look son, I was just as dissapointed  
as you were when Flump got elected, and we were all still here. I was really hoping the liberals were right, that we'd all be dead. It's why I voted for him.  
But this is our patriotic duty" explained Stan.  
"Ohhhh," said Steve with an idiotic look on his face. "I still don't get it"  
"It's okay Steve. Neither do I" replied Stan.  
"So when are we going up there?" asked Steve.  
"Tonight, son. I may just quit my job at the CIA and join this new alliance I know nothing about" said Stan.  
"Awesome!" said Steve, giving Stan a high five.

The next day, Stan, Steve, and Francine were all eager to join Roger up in the attic. So they attempted to knock on the door.  
"Stan, I sure hope Roger doesn't get Haylee pregnant like last time. No one believed us, and Budd Hopkins is dead now you know!" said Francine.  
"Haha, you think Roger was pounding her using a plunger penis? That wasn't Haylee that got pregnant that one time, it was Roger" explained Stan.  
"Huh?" asked Steve.  
"Never mind kiddo, I'll explain it when you're more indoctrinated and less rational. OK, let's get this party started" said Stan, kicking the door down.  
Sure enough, there was Haylee and Roger, laughing up a storm whilst contributing to the storm.  
"Looks like the calm before the storm just got less calm. Mind if we join your alliance?" asked Stan.  
"Sure, pull up a seat, please excuse my bad breath I just had twenty beers and you should too. Franny couldja turn the light on?" asked Roger.  
"Of course, sweetie" said Francine turning on the light.  
"Okay, so I'm on this new place called FloorPlan and now I'm posting new information" said Roger.  
"Roger, where are you getting your information?" asked Francine.  
"Oh, from a colleague in the Flump Administration. Here's his picture" said Roger, showing Stan a picture of himself dressed up like an FBI agent.

"Stan, have you seen anyone who looks like this, cuz I certainly have not!" said Francine winking at Stan, indicating she had in fact seen the person.  
"Yeah, I saw that picture before. Haha. Dave, good old Dave. CIA buddy. We knew each other in high school. Used to pretend we were zebras" said Stan.  
"Um, Stan, I hate to burst your bubble, especially in public, yet again, but that 'Dave' isn't your buddy in high school. I think he's also Q Anon, AKA Roger" said  
Francine.  
"Ah-haha-ha! Ahhhh, Francine, good times, good times" said Stan.

Stan looked at the computer, while Roger dictated notes allegedly being given to him by Dave.

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,  
How little that which thou deny'st me is;  
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,  
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;  
Thou know'st that this cannot be said  
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead;  
Yet this enjoys before it woo,  
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,  
And this, alas, is more than we would do.

"Um, Roger, isn't that an Emily Dickinson poem?" asked Stan.  
"Yes, but it MEANS something Stan. Something your feeble mind couldn't comprehend" said Roger.  
"What does it mean?" asked Stan.  
"I dunno, I have the hots for Emily Dickinson. Always have, don't know why. Next to Dolly Parton on my babes list. Hold on, let me write more" said Roger.

I'm climbing a stairway to heaven, the deep state is on a highway to hell.  
I have information to give you, information that is swell.  
Tomorrow the president will pull out a bell.

I have to wiz real quick.  
Tacos.  
Nigel Miraj is Bullock's real biological brother.  
My arms smell like birdshit. I think we all know the real reason.  
Birdshit will fall on everyone in next G2O meeting, mark my words, and then eat them for me. Words can be tastey.

Bullock once had an affair with a female reptillian named Katheryn C. Dragon. Sounds crazy but totally true.

Read it in a fanfic by the same author as this one.

Can't tell friends from enemies.

Haylee and Hillary both start with an H. Just by chance?

NibiruExistsinMyToilet28: Haylee? NIKKI HAYLEE? OH MY GOD...I LIKE...DECODED IT.

Jerome Popfly: No no no, Jeff, I think there's far more to it than that.

"There's no way this guy is really working for the president, he'd never rely on someone like that" said Stan.  
"I wouldn't bet on it, Dad" said Haylee.  
"Shut up Haylee, Q Anon can't possibly be working for Flump" said Stan.  
"But the CIA told you that he was a few days ago" replied Francine. Haylee and Roger could not stop laughing.  
"That must have been a different guy," said Stan. "Hey, Dave grew a mustache. Haha, Dave. That douche"

The following morning:

Stan turned on the television, attempting to drown out the endless laughter of the entire rest of his family upstairs. He was fed up with all the talk  
of Q Anon. Then he turned on Fox News and saw President Flump pulling out a bell and ringing it on live television.  
"Bing, ding, dong, dong, ding" said President Flump. Stan turned off the TV in horror and ran out the door.

"Everything I know is a lie!" yelled Stan tearing his shirt off and running towards a lamp pole, holding on to it, shaking nervously. Greg and Terry saw him.  
"Just ignore him, Greg, just ignore him" said Terry, whispering in Greg's ear.  
"Hey, did you see President Flump ringing a bell on TV?" asked Greg.  
"Oh, um, no I don't do the whole fake news thing" replied Terry.  
"No, this was like on all the TV stations. We're gonna have to report on it this coming week" said Greg.  
"FAKE NEWS!" shouted Terry.

Later, in the White House OVAL OFFICE:

"New information from Q and the Dark Shadowy Evil but somehow still super benevolant Alliance for you, Mr. Flump" said a short bulbous headed grey man dressed in a trenchcoat handing Flump some papers.  
"Thank you, sir" said President Flump.  
"No, thank you, for making the entire galaxy great again" said the strange little grey man who resembled Roger.

At CIA Headquarters:

Bullock was frantically pacing back and forth, giving himself injections of illegal drugs, and losing all touch with reality.  
"There's no such thing as Q Anon. It's a hoax, it's a hoax, yes, Haylee is trying to blackmail me that has to be it,  
yes, she has the photos, oh good lord!" yelled Bullock. A man knocked on the door. When Bullock opened it, there were hundreds of grey aliens in front of him  
that looked like clones of Roger.  
"WE ARE MANY. WE ARE STRONG. WE ARE A LEGION," said the aliens. Bullock slammed the door shut.  
"I'll start writing out my will" said Bullock.

At the Smith Home:

Stan turned on the TV to see a broadcast by Greg and Terry.

"Controversy is storming the nation. And we don't just mean Stormy Daniels" said Greg.  
"Terry, that was terry-ific. Get it? Cuz your name is Terry?" said Terry.  
"Okay enough with the puns, Terry. Let's get to the serious news. Serious as in seriously silly. Because President Flump just did something seriously silly" said  
Greg.  
"He rang a bell in the middle of a conference and acted like a total ding dong! What is the meaning of this new form of blatant unashamed hate speech?" asked Greg.  
"I think he was either mocking Wall-Mart Christmas greeters or the homeless or something" said Terry.  
"The hell you smoking Greg? President Flump reportedly rang a bell in the middle of his press conference, setting the Internet's alt-right ablaze with  
curiousity. Was this a reference to something posted by the self proclaimed high level patriot group Q Anon? We obviously don't think so, but make up your own mindand agree with us! Cuz we're adorable and completely not fake news!" said Greg.

"In other related stories, some believe Stormy Daniels is the Whore of Babylon mentioned in the Bible" said Terry.

"That makes me want to throw up, but I think it's probably true" said Stan. But just then Roger entered the room.  
"Turn the news back on," said Roger.  
"Why?" asked Stan.  
"So it turns out a couple months ago...okay a year ago...I told my minions that the head of the bad people group would be in chains by now and stuff?" said Roger.  
"Yeah?" said Stan. "And the head of the bad people group isn't in chains is he?"  
"Nope, he isn't. Also, I kinda got angry and manic and told all my followers I would hunt them down one by one and personally kill them all" said Roger.  
"Oh. But you didn't mean that did you?" asked Stan.  
"No, I was super drunk. Before every proclamation. Just like Nostradamus getting high by smoking peanut shells before his predictions. You should try it  
sometime. Way better than Mellow Yellow, but almost as dangerous as heroin. Anyway, turn on the news, the alt right got so angry at Flump that they're blaming my failures on him. Anyway, Alex Bones and Jerome Porkeye can barely cope.  
Bottom line-I got fired! Flump said it Stan, just like how he used to on Celebrity Apprentice!" said Roger.  
"Your clones that were briefing the president?" asked Stan.  
"Funny story about that, they got fired too" said Roger.

"Roger, you let us all down!" said Stan.

"Nuh-uh! I didn't let you down! Remember when you were a cripple as a little boy and I shouted RUN STANNIE RUN and you ran effortlessly?" asked Roger.

"Roger , you're thinking of Forest Gump, for once get your head out of the cinema" replied Stan, groaning.

"Oh, well I do have some totally good news" said Roger.  
"What's that?" asked Stan.  
"I'm coming out with a new book soon" said Roger.  
"Let me guess, the new Fire and Fury Grey Alien Edition?" asked Stan.  
"No. Moonshine and MoodSwings. And brownies. Cats. People. Mueller, Russia, Keystone Cops, etc. . Working  
with all those versions and personas of me all at once was difficult. Far more chaotic than even Flump.  
You know what? Screw it, I'll write a guide on how to deal with multiple personality disorder.  
Or am I just a CIA mind control victim? Oh well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go ask Roseanne if I can replace the role of the little transgender kid on her show" said Roger.  
"God bless America. Cuz heaven knows, we need it now more than ever" said Stan, shedding a tear.

TO BE CONTINUED...IN PART 2


End file.
